Author's Note: I have no idea what I just wrote.... It is honestly the weirdest story ever (I think it can easily be classified as a crack!fic)

This was for Ariellem's Nerd Challenge and my character was Marcus Flint with my fandom being Torchwod.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything! Any Torchwood refrences are not mine and the characters all belong to their respected authors.

Read and review!

*

Marcus Flint was not smart. He was quite slow witted and dumb—even his own mother would admit it. Flint usually resorted to throwing punches rather than solving problems diplomatically and it usually took Flint a few moments to realize the most obvious jokes. This was just the way he was: a slow witted Slytherin idiot who was bloody good at hitting Quaffels in the air. He had the most readable face ever; if he was annoyed you would know it and if he was happy (which had only happened once during his entire time at Hogwarts and that was when he found out Professor Lupin was leaving the school) you could tell.

But there was one thing that not one person in Hogwarts knew about Flint, something, that if found out, could have destroyed his entire reputation (and a false reputation is all a man has): he was a closet muggle-show nerd. It all started way back when Marcus was thirteen and was visiting his aunt Sarah during Christmas break. His aunt was what some people would call the black sheep of the family. “There’s always one in every family right?” Marcus used to say when he was reasoning his aunt’s weirdness to his family. I guess that’s what happens when you marry into a family with barely a pound behind their name; it really didn’t help that she married into a muggle family. Anyway, while Marcus was visiting his aunt he stumbled upon his uncle’s DVD (whatever that was) collection. His uncle had smiled at the wizard’s curiosity and selected a DVD from the collection. The DVD that was chosen was Torchwood. And thus a closet muggle TV show nerd was born. So it was naturally no surprise that when an exchange student with black hair, brown eyes and a strong Welsh accent came to Hogwarts, Marcus freaked out.

‘Gwen Cooper! Oh my god it’s Gwen Cooper from Torchwood! Maybe one of the students is an alien or maybe there is a weevil in the walls.’ Theories sprung to Marcus’ heads. Countless, impossible ideas. But the one thing he couldn’t shake: Gwen Cooper was at Hogwarts! He had been right all along: Torchwood was real and the TV show was just a coverup. Now all he needed was proof and it just landed into his lap! The real Gwen Cooper was walking through the halls of Hogwarts—the same halls that Marcus walked—with a wand.

“I’m Marcus Flint; Slytherin Quidditch Captain and Chaser.” Gwen Cooper was sitting next to him! She was sitting next to him! He had to stay cool. WWCJD? (What would Captain Jack do?) Marcus knew he had to retain all his knowledge of Torchwood, or ‘Rory’ might just accidentally slip Retcon into his morning pumpkin juice. “So, what part of Wales are you from?” he asked. If she said Cardiff…

“Cardiff,” she replied, flicking through her books. Somehow, Marcus had miraculously kept a straight face, but on the inside he was screaming! Rory was from Cardiff! Gwen lives in Cardiff! Torchwood three was in Cardiff Bay! (Well, technically underneath but still!) Marcus excused him from class. As he was walking to the loo a brilliant idea struck him. What if he found the alien before Gwen? Then he could show her that he was Torchwood material! A wizard in Torchwood! Marcus only saw one small, tiny, insignificant problem with his flawless plan—what alien exactly was he looking for? Reentering the class, Marcus sat back down next to Rory and tried (and failed) to not look at her all lesson. She couldn’t even guess that he was looking for the same thing she was; that would spoil the whole operation.

Leaning closer to Rory, he said the stupid thing (and he wished he hadn’t of said it at all): “You know what I’d like to see? CSI: Cardiff,”

*

Weeks passed quickly for Marcus. He failed all of his exams and almost got himself killed by a bludger in Quidditch practice. But Marcus didn’t care; he was on a top-secret mission and nothing could distract him from not. He had even given up his favourite past-time: tormenting the first years. Even he couldn’t decide wether he was brilliant or just plain idiotic. Him and Rory had begun to spend plenty of time together; this was, obviously, all apart of Marcus’ ingenious plan to expose Gwen and Torchwood. During this time, Marcus would gain all the intellect and information he needed to throw Rory off his tracks.

By the end of the month, Marcus hit a wall. Literally. Who knows what happened when he hit that wall, maybe it was some sort of magic wall that gave Marcus brain cells instead of taking them, or maybe it just knocked some sense into him, but an idea struck him when he hit that wall. Instead of finding the aliens himself, he was going to let Rory find them and then save her life. It was pure genius! Nothing could possibly go wrong...could it?

*

It was the end of term party. Marcus usually came to the party for a few drinks and then went back to tormenting first years but this term was different. He had to remain sober and he had to follow Rory. “Hey Marcus,” Rory said when she saw him. Luckily she didn’t pick up that he had been following her. “Want a drink?” what if she had put retcon in the drink? Marcus thought, but hey, if Gwen Cooper can remember Torchwood after she was dosed with retcon, I’m sure I could survive just one drink he reasoned with himself. Truthfully, Marcus just wanted a drink. The rest of the night passed by in a blur. How many drinks had he had? Two, three? Maybe six or seven. But by midnight, Marcus had already thrown up twice and was chatting to Rory. “You know who you look like?” he slurred, pointing a drunken finger at Rory. “You look like….Gwen Cooper,”

“Who?” Rory laughed, obviously enjoying drunken!Marcus.

“Gwen Cooper from…Torchwood. Are you Gwen? I think you’re Gwen, which is why…I have been...following you,”

“You’ve been following me!” she exclaimed, attempting to back away. Marcus was too drunk to realize he was about to give away his great secret plan.

“Yeah…” he said, sloshing firewhisky into his lap. “Because I thought...you...defeated aliens. I thought if I ...killed...alien we could live happily ever torchwood.”

“Because I know everything.” Marcus stated drunkenly. Rory gave him an ‘oh-really’ look. “Yep, says so on the bottom of the screen.”

Rory gave him a quizzical look and handed him another firewhisky. He took it greedily. The next morning, Marcus awoke in his bed unsure of how he got there. His head was spinning and he felt as though he had forgotten something very important. “So, are you feeling better then Flint? Blimely, you were drunk last night; muttering about something called Torchwood and that exchange student Rory,”

Marcus rubbed his temples. Who the hell was Rory? Walking over to the foot of his bed Marcus saw a piece of paper with his messy writing on it. It was a photograph of him and a pretty girl with black hair with two words written on it: GWEN COOPER.

Marcus laughed at himself. Gwen Cooper was from Torchwood yes, but who was that girl in the photo? She looked a hell of a lot like Gwen, except Gwen was in Cardiff, not Hogwarts. “I must have drunk a hell of a lot last night,” Marcus muttered to himself before walking to The Great Hall.

Moral of this story? Being a closet nerd is hell fun, until Gwen Cooper slips you some retcon.